


Vampire's Hypnosis

by VZG



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comic)
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-03
Updated: 2008-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VZG/pseuds/VZG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander gets seduced the slow way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vampire's Hypnosis

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Spike/Xander, seduction".
> 
> Some spoilers for Angel season five, all of Buffy's television run, and early Buffy "season eight" comics (Wolves at the Gate).
> 
> Vampires totally drink beer. That's a thing that happens. (I don't remember if that's a thing that happens. Let's just pretend it is.)

It was not a simple seduction — not that Xander was exactly used to being seduced, except for that one time with the mantis, and he didn't really like thinking about that — and yet it was not particularly complex. That was why he didn't suspect a thing.

When Spike appeared, grumbling about some apocalypse they'd apparently missed out on, Xander had had to be the one to stop a handful of young and not-quite-battle-savvy Slayers from staking him, so he'd sort of figured it was gratitude at first; the lingering touches, the fixed staring when he hadn't been looking — it made sense, really. It was all very platonic-seeming, with the way Spike made jokes at his expense while it happened.

And for a while, that was all. Then Spike actively started tagging along with him. "No one else is eager to buddy up with a fangy beast," he explained.

"But you have a soul now," Xander said, like it would make a difference to the girls who only know vampires as enemies.

"That's what I told 'em."

And maybe that should have been a little more suspicious, but Xander was still reeling from Renee's — departure, and he hadn't mentioned it to Spike, but maybe he could— sense it, or smell it, or something. At the time, the idea of Spike smelling any part of him would have been pretty unappealing, but he was mourning and lonely and Spike was a distraction. Not always a happy distraction, especially when he was threatening to eat Andrew if the kid spouted off one more geeky reference, but a distraction nonetheless.

And then Spike started being nice, and that was completely new but it didn't shock Xander as much as it should have, because a lot of stuff was new and he had to stay on his toes and, well, there was the matter of the soul. He suspected Spike thought he was making up for something by helping him get away from the girls when he needed to, by buying him a drink now and then.

He suspected wrong.

And so it was like hypnosis, the way he was subtly dragged under the current, drifting away but so comfortable, like he'd never left the safety of his bed.

Except he had, because he remembered that Spike had invited him to his room for a drink, and there weren't a lot of places to be alone around there but none of the Slayers were particularly interested in rooming with an undead guy.

Well, some of them were, but that, Buffy explained, was exactly why it was a good idea for them _not_ to get to room with him.

Normally they would have gone out for a drink, even if it was a bit of a trek to the nearest pubs and bars, but Spike had complained about feeling tired, and Xander agreed to stay in just to avoid the whining. Normally Spike's room was cold and drafty, just the way he liked it, but it felt warmer that night. Normally there were some sucked-dry packets of pig's blood or mugs with red rings in them, but everything was neat and tidy.

Normally Spike wore clothes — like, some clothes, _any_ clothes — but, well.

Xander found that he didn't mind as much as he would have a few years before.

Spike moved like liquid, like with eternal youth he'd learned how to roll his joints so that they seemed to flow with the air. He walked up to Xander, but the only parts of them that touched were their shoulders and Spike leaned around him, sliding the lock into place.

"Wouldn't want any of the girls to walk in on something they're too young for, would we?" he murmured, his voice soft and low in Xander's ear.

They had drinks, but by the time Spike finished downing his first beer Xander had more than half of his left. He'd never thought getting sloshed took any kind of concentration — that seemed to defeat the purpose, anyway — but he just couldn't find the focus to lift his arm and bring the bottle to his lips. His eyes were fixed on Spike's body, relaxed and unassuming, and he asked, suddenly, "What is this?"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Drinking," he said, holding out his empty bottle in something like a salute.

"I don't—" But he realized that talking wasn't going to get him anywhere, and so he started to impatiently undress, tugging his shirt off. He cast a quick glance at Spike, trying to make sure, just make _absolutely_ sure that he didn't have it wrong, and although Spike hadn't moved much he was definitely interested, a smirk on his lips and his hand on his—

 _Come on, Xander, if you're going to have gay sex, you're going to have to at least_ think _the word—_

—penis, dick, cock, little Spike, one-eyed buddy, his fleshy stake— Xander stopped thinking of euphemisms because he didn't want to blush _too_ much while he stripped his pants off.

There was an awkward moment, when Xander didn't know what to do, sitting across from Spike, both naked. He hadn't put much thought into it.

Then Spike sort of crawled toward him, bite his shoulder — "Hey!" — and wrapped his hand around his dick.

They didn't kiss. Xander was afraid of Spike's fangs, sort of, but he was also afraid of putting more meaning to the sex than than the vampire meant for there to be. He wouldn't kiss Spike unless he was kissed first, and Spike seemed fine with that.

It was weird, really. Weird, but not terrible, just— weird. A lot of stuff happened to his ass, first with Spike's palm and teeth (oh, God — Anya had done spanking, but not _biting_ — not on his ass, anyway), then his tongue (Anya had never done that to him— no one had), then his fingers (or that, except— well, but that didn't count), and then his—

"Cock," Xander choked, and Spike looked down at him like he'd just gone mental all of a sudden.

"Yes, that would be what that is," Spike said, and then pushed all the way in.

So it was weird, but only at first, and then it was _really_ good.

Xander was familiar with his prostate in the same way he was familiar with his gall bladder. He knew it did stuff, had had to answer something about it on a test in high school, and occasionally when he got around to seeing a doctor it came up, but he'd never been intimately familiar with it. When Spike gave Xander and his prostate a proper introduction, he was pretty sure it was love at first sight, and that he would never neglect such a friendly part of his body again.

He came in Spike's hand and tried not to groan when he _licked it off_ , coming inside him just a moment later.

And, okay, that was weird, too, but the part in the middle was good enough for him to forgive the weirdness, and to want to do it again. So they did.

It became something of a regular habit; they went out to drink sometimes, and then some nights Spike would suggest they stay in instead. Then it happened in the bathroom one morning, and once when everyone else was eating lunch, and then against the wall of a castle when they were supposed to be looking for a demon, and then Xander stopped keeping track, because he figured that was pretty much the point of no return, anyway, if the sex itself hadn't been.

And then one night, when they were naked and sweaty and a little bloody and Xander's eyepatch was somewhere on the floor and he was trying to keep the scar out of sight, Spike kissed him.

At that point, Xander considered himself thoroughly seduced.


End file.
